


Skye/Coulson Tumblr Prompts Fills

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Future Fic, Kissing, Love Confessions, Office Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pillow Talk, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, Zombie/Alien OTP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1958367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Skye/Coulson ficlets based on prompts from the Fuck Yeah Skye/Coulson! blog. </p><p>  <a href="http://fuckyeahskoulson.tumblr.com/post/91480070035/we-were-going-about-our-day-you-know-talking">Link to the post.</a></p><p>Chapter 1: Post-first time conversation.<br/>Chapter 2: Skye and Coulson debate who was the best <i>Star Trek</i> captain.<br/>Chapter 3: Skye has to deal with a de-aged teenage!Coulson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

[prompt: _Lyrics prompt- other lives black tables - old Phil/new Phil When the whites of your eyes come through You will see something new With your body and mind restored It's good to see you back home_ ]

 

 

**there are no sign posts in this room**

"Are you sure?" she asks and Coulson makes a noise into his pillow. "Sorry. Were you sleeping?"

He must have drifted off for a second, lulled by the warmth of the sheets and Skye's proximity, by exhaustion, by days and weeks and months of exhaustion.

He opens his eyes to find her staring at him.

"No, no. What did you just ask?"

Skye tilts her head in a familiar way. "I asked if you were sure about this."

"Isn't it a bit too late for that?" he asks, resting his head on his arm. Then he chuckles because it is too late, it has always been, in a way, but it is inevitably too late now, with Skye here, naked on his bed, her hair spread messily against his pillow like in some sad fantasy he never allowed himself to have before.

He has been reckless, he knows. Skye has always been reckless, he knows this too. It was the perfect combination of recklessness between the two of them.

And it only took him almost losing his mind.

"No, I mean. I get it if you want to backtrack," she says, but she draws her fingers along his clavicle. "You got scared and then you were okay and you did this..."

Coulson closes his eyes. He just wants to get lost in the feeling of Skye's fingers exploring his body, testing their new freedom. He doesn't want to talk. He doesn't want to analyze it. He normally would, find comfort in overthinking every detail, guide himself by well-known patterns and expectations. That's how he used to be, when he used to be someone else. He can't do this with Skye, for many reasons (including the fact that... since when has Skye fitted in any recognizable pattern?). More, importantly, _he doesn't want to_."

"I'm not backtracking," he says.

How back would he have to go, for it not to be _too late_ , anyway? Thirty minutes? Two months? A year? He suspects he'd have to go back to before that sceptre went through his heart.

"I am impulsive," Skye explains. "I normally jump head on into stuff with very little data. I make rash decisions and then I regret them and then I run away, for good."

He grabs her wrist between his thumb and his index. "You're still here."

"Because this _wasn't_ impulsive," she tells him. "Not for me. For you?"

Coulson lets go of her hand. He lies on his back, looking at the ceiling. This room hasn't felt like home to him. Not until now. But that's too small an explanation to give Skye. She deserves more. More and better.

He doesn't reply.

"Why didn't you do this before?" she asks.

He turns his face. "You mean grab your arm and haul you into my room and...?"

"And kiss me senseless and... other things... senseless, too." She smiles. She looks younger when she is being shy – and he knows this is not modesty (the idea of Skye as modest is laughable), this is the vertigo of something new. This is the result of Coulson treating her the way he has these past few months, pretending there wasn't this thing between them. Skye draws a long breath. "You must have known I'd say _yes_."

"I did," Coulson says. "I took advantage of that knowledge today."

"If taking advantage means giving me exactly what I wanted... my original question stands. Why didn't you do it before?"

"I was scared."

"Because you were ill?"

No, he wants to say. He was scared because he is a coward, is the simple answer. Even before the symptoms started, even before the sleepwalking, even before the team became desperate for a way to fix it, even before Skye's origins came into play so drastically.

He had been scared before.

He had been scared in one way or another since before he even met Skye.

He still is, in a sense.

"I don't know," he says, and he can understand Skye's little groan of frustration.

"Why didn't you do it that night?" she asks him, looking him straight in the eye.

"What night?"

Skye winces. "Coulson. Don't play dumb with me. _That night_. That day you saved me from Ward. We were out in the pool and you were... well, you know how you were acting. And then you went to your room and when you came back it was like you were a different person. Like I had lost your attention."

Not my attention, he says to himself. As if that were possible. The confidence in himself, perhaps.

"That was the night I..." he starts.

"I know," she cuts him.

Coulson takes a moment. He grabs the pendant resting between Skye's breasts, touching his knuckle to her skin. She feels almost too warm. It's one of the two necklaces she didn't even take off when going to bed – even though she took everything else off, watch, rings, her earrings. It had been a maddeningly slow moment, watching her undress, after the rush of kissing against the door, it had given Coulson pause, perspective. Thinking about it now he realizes it might have been his favorite moment of the night, after all, the intent, the confidence behind that gesture, placing those objects quietly on Coulson's desk, like a wordless challenge.

Now he wonders why she has left both necklaces on – he wants to ask where they come from, did she buy them or were they a gift. He wants to listen to all those stories from her past. He wants to listen to her voice. He turns the metal in his palm.

"Coulson?" she calls him back.

He lets go of the necklace, running his fingers between her breasts and over the pink scars on her stomach. Half an hour ago he had been too preoccupied with their raw need, their raw pleasure. Now he just wants to kiss every part of her he had forgotten in his haste, he wants Skye to kiss every part of him she has felt she wasn't allowed to.

He goes back to that night: "When I found about what could happen to me I had to face some facts, about what I had been feeling all along; that something might be wrong with me. For a while I couldn't think about that, because we were at war. Then after arriving here it all came back."

He watches Skye's eyes cloud with worry for a moment. That dark expression she has been wearing for weeks, because of him, because of herself. Today, he thinks, it's the first time he has seen her without it. And he's not naive enough to think he can will away all their remaining problems with a bit of sex, but he breathes easier when that expression goes away. For now at least that's not the expression Skye wants to show him.

"What did that have to do with us?" she asks. _Us_ , he is a fool and he deserves another brain scan, just to make sure because this is not like him, but he likes the way that sounds. He would normally panic at the implication – but with Skye _us_ has never made him anxious. _Us_ has always been a comfort and a kindness between them.

"I though I – I believed it wasn't fair to you," he tells her, realizing how selfish it sounds. "I knew you'd say _yes_ , but... was it really worth it for you, if maybe I had so little to give?"

Skye had enough in her life of always getting the scraps, the leftovers. Coulson hadn't wanted to give her something broken again.

Now she is smiling almost benevolently at him.

"I don't have to tell you what an epically stupid idea that was," she says.

Coulson shakes his head. "No."

She looks down at her hand, placed between their bodies. Her expression darkens a bit.

"I could have told you something very much like that. About myself. Being unfair..."

And yes, the other man, the other Phil, would have cared about that, would have thought about that, before doing this. The other man would have looked at Skye right now and thought _prevention measures_ first, instead of _it doesn't matter, I love you, the rest has no weight_.

He runs his fingertips over the grooves of her knuckle, feeling the landscape with patience. No, it still feels normal. It still feels _Skye_. Not some menace from a distant planet, not some unavoidable prophecy, not the dissolution of what she is, what he is. It feels like flesh and blood. Her hand under his. It's that simple. Their lives are complicated but this is simple.

"When Simmons told me today I was okay, after everything that's happened. When I finally felt like it was true, like my body wasn't conspiring against me for the first time in... a long time... I thought –"

"You thought about me?" Skye offers, hopeful, and open, wearing everything she is, everything she feels, on her expression. She wiggles her fingers under his, lacing them together.

"I thought... I might have finally run out of excuses," Coulson tells her.

"Excuses, uh?" Skye slides along the bed and closes her lips around the curve of Coulson's shoulder. She takes her time with that spot. Coulson, still sensitive from before, shivers under her mouth. She is still holding on to his hand. "It's good that you are using the proper word. Because you are so full of... _excuses_."

He catches her chin in his hand, pulling her to look at him. "You know my condition, even now, might not be... stable."

Skye rolls her eyes. To be fair to her, this is the first time she does that this evening.

"And you have met what's left of my charming family. You know any day I could lose my humanity and try to take over the world, it's in the genes." There's a defiant smile on her face but Coulson knows how deep and sharp the fear behind it is.

"I honestly don't think that's going to happen," he says, touching his fingers to the side of her neck. He traces the outline of bones and muscle. Everything so ordinary. With a lover's blindness he could say Skye is not like any other woman he's been with and yet she feels completely human – Coulson is still struggling with the notion that she is not.

"But you don't know for sure," Skye points out. She's good at that, pointing things out, Coulson reflects half-charmed and half-defeated.

"No," he admits, sensing where this is going. "I don't know for sure."

"My point, exactly."

She drops her head to kiss him.

She holds her hand up to his chest.

"You didn't have to feel healthy or brave to do this. Even when you don't think you are healthy or brave I still _want you_." She pauses, biting her lower lip before asking. "What do you want?"

His hand moves over hers, like a request. He is careful, but a different kind of carefulness from what's expected of him. There's not much of the boldness he had felt earlier, when he had simply grabbed Skye's hand and led her along the hallway to his room and closed his door and kissed her in the same movement, in the same breath.

He rests his other hand on her hip, between the warm sheets and her warm skin.

Brave and healthy, yes, that's how he had felt earlier.

He is starting to have his doubts.

But not about what Skye is asking.

"I want this," he tells her.


	2. Chapter 2

**no other plans**

It's fun riling him, and she has discovered it's easy too. Fun is not something they have had in excess lately. And personally Skye even less so. No one can blame her for wanting to tease him a bit.

Because sometimes Phil Coulson really _needs_ to be teased.

And tonight it's one of those times. But also tonight Skye really needs to tease him, for herself, too.

"I can't believe what you are saying," he protests.

"I can't believe you don't agree with me."

"But –" he starts, moving his hands as if that would make his point sounder. "But, it is, _obviously_ , Jean-Luc Picard."

"No way. How can _you_..." Skye gestures towards, well, all of Coulson, "not respect the classics?"

Coulson crosses his arms, leaning back against the desk. He seems to have forgotten they are supposed to be working. Which, if she is honest, was Skye's whole point.

"Just because something is a classic it doesn't mean it's better," he states, very serious.

Skye silently opens her mouth to form an O, mocking him. "That's not what you said when Fitz tried to replace your coffee machine."

"That contraption wasn't meant to handle – We are not talking about my coffee machine. We are talking about–"

" _Star Trek_?"

Coulson makes a defeated noise at the back of his throat, finally realizing Skye has once more roped him in to have a ridiculous conversation. She smiles at him and tries to appease him by stepping into his personal space, running her hands along his arms for a moment. He doesn't tense up, which is good. He is still a bit iffy about being _improper_ inside his office, as if that was their biggest problem. The "no fooling around in the office" pact holds, for the most part – despite two couple of epic breaches of protocol, one very early morning in his big, comfortable chair, and one very late night with Skye's knees scrapping against the carpet. Other than that, they have mostly behaved. Mostly being the operational word here, and Skye finds it hard to fight her instinct to push her teasing into its natural conclusion – that's what she normally does, anyway, when they are alone.

"Come on. Have you seen Jim Kirk fight? It's hilarious. That's why he's the best."

"He's the best captain because he's funny?" he asks.

"Well, yes."

"I think we've operating under different parameters, Skye."

She chuckles. His grumpy expression softens and he quirks his mouth in a definitely flirtatious smirk. She remembers that, at least half the time, he is the one to take the teasing to its natural conclusion. It's not that she keeps score but they've been together a couple of months and she knows the patterns.

"Skye, you can't argue funniness against things like integrity and intellect and sense."

"Internet memes are more important than those things," Skye indeed argues.

Coulson frowns, like he is remembering something, his eyes lit up when he looks at her again.

"You showed me one with Picard," he says. "The one where he looks appalled."

"Picard Facepalm, yes."

They both chuckle. Coulson likes it when they are working together and Skye is doing three things at the same time and she starts ranting about memes and about all the Reddit threads she intends to troll when she has some time – she never has the time for that, not anymore, but Coulson likes to listen to that, anyway. And Skye has found he learns very quickly about the stuff and they have a strangely similar sense of humor. And hey it might be unusual but he's twice her age and technically a zombie and she is an alien who could destroy the world if her true nature ever awakens so she's not worried about the fact that they sometimes have a laugh over silly high school kids who can't fill the names of the countries in a map of Europe. It's not like anyone handed them a instructions manual for this. And under the circumstances (and they are extraordinary circusmtances) Skye thinks they are doing pretty well. With everything else that's happening around them (and _to them_ ) she can't exactly say she's happy – but she is happy when she is with Coulson.

"You know you only like Picard because you feel spiritually close to his baldness," Skye tells him.

Coulson laughs, warm and loud.

"My baldness is doing okay, thank you very much," he says, smirking.

"Yes, it is," she agrees, looking at him and slipping her arms under his jacket.

"So that was the point of this argument."

She brushes her nose against his jaw.

"I'd much rather have this argument with you than listen to FitzSimmons list their favorite Doctor Whos in order of preference," she tells him.

"I think it's just–"

"Just _the Doctor_ , I know. I was mocking them."

She kisses the corner of his mouth. Coulson holds her closer.

She presses him against the desk until a familiar groan escapes his lips. There it is, Skye thinks, satisfied.

"I'd rather not have an argument at all, right now," he tells her.

She pulls her hands from under his jacket and slaps Coulson's arm gently, teasingly. "Director!"

The "no fooling around in the office" pact is really tenous at this point.

"I don't know why but for a time in the orphanage I remember catching all these _Star Trek_ and _Taxi_ reruns," she tells him. "Really weird, if you think about it, the channels we got. I just wanted to watch _Power Rangers_ and _Sabrina the Teenage Witch_ , not Captain Kirk fighting a lizard monster."

Coulson lets her talk.

"All that time having these fantasies about who my real parents were, it never occurred to me they could have been featured as villain of the week in _Star Trek_..."

He tilts his head. "That's what's bothering you?"

"That's always bothering me."

"I know."

He puts one hand in the small of her back and draws her into a hug.

Skye lets herself stay in his arms for a moment, breathing the comforting, familiar scent of his suit. She didn't mean to go from Jim Kirk to profound existential anguish but she is finding out, even since she started _this_ with Coulson, ever since they started it together, that for the first time in her life she's allowed to be selfish like this in front of another person, and Coulson won't send her off or consider her needy or think she's a mess.

Though, Skye can face the truth, she's a mess.

She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him away gentle. Oh she is planning to have a meltdown about her true nature soon, and she is planning for Coulson to be in the vicinity, most probably. But it's not going to be right now, and it's definitely not going to be as the weekend starts. 

Coulson lets her untangle herself from his embrace but his eyes never stop doing that soft thing they do when he's worried but he doesn't want to pester her about it. Skye appreciates both.

"What I mean is... Have you noticed it's Friday night and we are here in your office, working and –?"

"Arguing about Enterprise captains?"

He stops doing the soft thing and starts smiling, a little convinced. She sways back into his space, pressing her hip against him. For a moment she leans, to make it look like she is about to reach and kiss him but then she draws back and Coulson lets out a good-natured groan of protest or disappointment.

"I mean, when we could be... I don't know, on the couch, watching the actual stuff. I still control the team's Netflix account."

Control which you will pry out of my cold dead hands, she thinks.

Coulson studies her face.

"We have been working a bit too hard lately," he admits.

Skye is done with being subtle about this. He knows she wants him to spend more time with the team, take a break, take better care of himself. She also hopes he knows she's going to keep asking, but she's not going to push.

She flashing him a (what she hopes is) disarming grin while she rests her hands on his hips.

"Is it so bad to spend Friday night watching movies with the team while I curl up in your arms – which _I know_ we can't do because we have our No Public Displays of Affection rule, don't worry, I'll behave. It was just a figure of speech."

"Skye..." He stares at her. "It's not that _you_ have to _behave_."

"I know that."

"Good."

She closes the file Coulson has been working on all evening.

"Still," she says. "Movie, popcorn, the team. It's a solid plan. Don't worry, I'll get you alone later."

He nods, smiling carefully at her mood. _Not much later, I hope_ , Skye says to herself. By the way he is looking at her Coulson seems to be thinking exactly the same thing.

He closes the file _she_ has been working on all evening, giving her a knowing look.

They are a good team, Skye reflects, between the two of them they'd probably make a good Enterprise Captain. She leaves that argument for some other day when she's tired of working – _Who do you think would make a better Starfleet Captain, you or me?_

Coulson switches the light on his desk off and follows her to the door.

Skye smiles to herself; if nothing else trying to _behave_ in front of the team while sitting close to him on the couch will prove a nice distraction.

Coulson grabs her arm as she is about to walk through the door, stopping her. Skye gives him a questioning look. His hand drops from her arm to her waist, holding her tight, door open.

"Well," he says, as he pulls her closer, "maybe a little PDA."

He's such a rebel, she thinks, grinning against his mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**I missed your face today**

 

 

 

She has to admit; eighteen year old Coulson is kind of a lot of work.

"Why the handcuffs?" he asks. There's a kind of contained energy in his voice that definitely sounds like Coulson. Not the voice itself, though. He still doesn't sound like Coulson and it's not just the accent. It makes Skye's stomach drop, to realize not just that she misses Coulson's voice but how much she actually loves it.

This is not a revelation but it's definitely an inconvenient thing to fixate on while runnig for their lives.

She wishes Coulson – the real one – was here; they'd figure it out together.

"You're faster and stronger than me," Skye argues. "And we need to help you get back to normal. I can't risk you running away and into the hands of the people who want to hurt you."

Maybe it's not completely true – she has been training after all and he is a kid, maybe she can take him. But even as he is more or less her height young Phil Coulson stockier than adult Coulson, the shoulder broader, less stylized. He is still – well, Skye doesn't want to say handsome here, because it's creepy and anyway the Coulson she knows is the handsome one and this boy's features are not still formed into the face Skye loves so much.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the boy asks.

"I told you. I know you. You're – we work together."

"Work? I finish high school this year."

Skye goes over what they did to him one more time.

He looks at her like she is crazy – Coulson would never ever look at her like that.

Skye can tell he is still planning to escape.

She needs to get them out of this former HYDRA compound and back to Fitz and Simmons as soon as possible.

She tries not to look at his face – his face is too weird. It's obviously Coulson's face, or it will be someday, but it's not her Coulson's. Not that there is such a thing as _her Coulson_ , Skye knows this, but she can't help feeling completely bereft and lost looking into those eyes that should be familiar but not finding the person she knows there.

She tries to explain again, gentler, because she needs him to cooperate, to trust her, but it's kind of futile.

"They made you younger somehow. And they made you forget."

He looks at her in disbelief. Skye is not used to looking into that gaze of his and not finding implicit trust. It breaks her heart slowly and quietly.

"That kind of technology doesn't exist," the boy says, very rational.

"Yes, it does. Only it's alien. But now HYDRA, or at least ex-HYDRA people, has it."

"Alien?" he snorts. "And HYDRA are the bad guys from the _Captain America_ comics, and they were defeated."

Well, you are in for a really awful surprise in about thirty years, Skye thinks.

"I know who you are," he adds and for a moment Skye hopes against hope. Does he remember her after all? "You're with SHIELD. And I know what SHIELD is."

"I know you know," she says gently, feeling the weight of what she knows about Coulson's childhood.

"SHIELD killed my father," he tells her.

"That's not – it's complicated."

She knows a eighteen year old Coulson wouldn't know the whole story yet; he's yet to met Fury, he's yet to hear the truth from Fury along with his offer to join SHIELD.

Skye thinks how weird it is to miss someone who is right by your side.

She wishes Coulson was here.

"Does my mother know I'm here?" he asks her, worried, pulling at the handcuffs.

Skye's face falls. She answers with some banal lie.

She slips once and calls to him and calls him " _Coulson_ ".

"Why are you calling me that? My name is Phillip."

"You go by Phillip?"

"I go by my name."

"You go by _Phil_ ," she says, kind of offended, like he is so wrong and committing such an affront.

"Phil?" the boy grimaces and it's the same gesture Skye has seen Coulson do when Simmons is showing him something particularly gross in the lab. "That's an old man's name."

Skye feels a sharp pang of pain in her chest and she has to keep himself from smiling a sad smile at that because – 

"Yes, it is."

It's only after they are being actually shot at that Coulson (though Skye doesn't want to associate the name with the boy) understands they are actually in danger.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks.

Skye notices she has put herself between him and danger instinctively. For a moment she has forgotten he is not Coulson, well, he is, just not right now. She would do that, too, protect him, if they were on the field together, her and _Coulson_. And he would do the same. 

But this boy doesn't care what happens to her.

"This is what I do," Skye tells him, and it isn't a lie, not exactly.

"I still don't know who you are," he says and Skye tries to ignore the sharp bite of those words. It's not Coulson's voice yet but it's getting there. "I don't know why you are doing this for me."

That's easy, she thinks.

But she can't give the boy details.

Who knows if Coulson might remember this conversation when he comes back.

(because he's totally coming back)

But he can give him something.

"I crashed a car," she says.

"What?"

"That's why I'm doing this. Because I crashed a car for you once," she explains, simply. "And in that moment I promised myself that no matter where you were and who was trying to hurt you, I'll always find you, and save you. And I will."

The boy seems to listen to her for the first time in the whole afternoon.

Or at least he doesn't look at her like she is crazy.

He nods slowly.

"Okay, you can take the handcuffs off. I won't run."

She does it. Because she still trusts that tone of voice, even if the voice itself is not quite the right one.

When she takes them off she watches him massage the irritated skin of his wrists and Skye is reminded of that time Coulson took off her electronic bracelet. How can she be getting nostalgic about that? But she is.

"I don't know what the hell is happening here, but I want to find out," the boy says and Skye realizes he's a very serious and solemn teenager and well, that makes perfect sense.

At some point they find people who are not shooting at them but shooting to protect them and Skye is about to jump into May's arms or Trip's arms, it doesn't matter whom. Except that can wait because right now they have to make sure teenage Phil Coulson goes back to his proper state and definitely to his _proper_ state.

Skye never thought she'd admit this but god does she miss the suits.

 

+

 

"I think I should give Fitz a raise," he says, putting on his jacket.

Skye watches him with a kind of hunger, hasn't basically left his side since they were brought back to the Playground. Coulson doesn't even question her presence here in his office while he finishes putting on his second skin as it were. She can't take her eyes off him, her gaze following every little gesture. She feels like she hasn't seen him in days. She wonders if he notices or if he minds.

Seeing him back in his place, back in his clothes, back in his skin, feels like a relief to her, like coming home after a long trip and it's not like Skye can make that kind of comparisons easily.

"That technology is out there," she says. "It's a good thing we have counter measures."

"Yes, it is."

Skye can see he is still spooked by the whole thing. "How are you feeling?"

Coulson hesitates before answering, tests the length of his tie until he finds it perfect. She notices he doesn't seem to be experiencing the usual relief in this kind of situations. He's tense.

"How am I feeling? After having my body and mind violated once more? I'm not sure."

Coulson doesn't really do whiny so Skye thinks it's healthy that at least this once he indulges. But still, his words are upsetting. She knows he wouldn't use them if that wasn't exactly what he is feeling, and sharply, painfully.

Skye's shrug at that is nothing but awkward.

"Yeah, that wasn't a picnic for any of us," she agrees. "It might look like a funny idea – ha ha the boss is a teenager now – but that's only funny in the movies. It was terrifiying, mainly."

His expression softens and she feels kind of guilty: this is not about her at all.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to–"

"Thank you for getting me out of there," he says and Skye meets his eyes again. "Thank you for making me trust you when I had forgotten I should always trust you."

Skye nods, accepting the words, not knowing what to say.

"So you remember everything?" she asks.

"Yes."

So she was right in keeping some things to herself. She is right in keeping them now, she thinks.

"I remember how it felt," he continues, looking down at his hands. Skye realizes he has them clasped together so tightly that the skin has gone paler. "To think that my mother was still alive."

She bites her lip and takes a couple of steps towards him.

"Coulson, I'm so sorry."

She places her hand on the hollow of his elbow. The feel of rich suit fabric under her touch comforts her in an odd way, and she hopes to do something for him. She's not sure she can, not about _this_ , but maybe if he _feels_ Skye here, with him, that might mean something.

And maybe it means something, because he raises his hand and almost brushes his fingertips across Skye's wrist, not quite making contact, but showing every intention. Something about it, brief as the moment is, ambiguous as it is (Skye feels the need to keep some things from him slipping away), tells her he appreciates the effort, even as he drops his hand without actually touching her skin. She lets him go, but now they are standing very close together, Coulson leaning against his desk. This close Skye realizes Coulson smells different than he did when he was a boy. Skye likes how he smells now. Definitely.

He looks at her face. "And I remember how empty I felt, not recognizing you."

Skye looks away for a moment because yeah, that was nightmare stuff. And she couldn't blame the confused, frightened eighteen year old but part of her did, part of her wanted to scream at him to go away and bring back the _real_ Coulson.

"That is my biggest fear. Well, no, obviously, it's that they kill you." She gives it a little nervous laughter. "But other than that. You not knowing who I was, everything we have gone through forgotten just like that, vanished. Yeah, that was..."

She drifts off. Coulson takes pity and interrupts her, running his hands along Skye's arms. He doesn't seem to hesitate in the gesture this time. She finds the touch a bit startling, after the day she's had, that he initiates the contact now – it feels like he hasn't wanted touched her in ages – but she welcomes it.

"Sounds like you had a hard time as well. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she says, fighting the emotion in her voice because she _has missed him_. "No need to make an embarrassment of myself. Well.. maybe I need to make a _further_ embarrassment of myself."

Coulson raises an eyebrow, wordessly asking what she means.

"Seeing you like that..." Skye starts. "And not just that. The fact that we were in danger, we were running for our lives. It reminded me just how dangerous our job is."

"You had forgotten?" he asks, amused.

"Let me finish. So, danger. There's that. There's also the fact that it would suck if we died and I didn't get the chance to tell you something useless like that I love you. There's _that_."

She has tried to make it sound light and unimportant, there's that.

He stares at her for a moment. Skye regrets having opened her mouth. But she also knows it would suck to regret the other thing.

"It's not useless," Coulson tells her. Then, easily, casually: "I love you too, Skye."

She has to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

That's nice, she thinks, and she appreciates the sentiment but...

"That's nice, Director, but we are not talking about the same thing. And that's fine, I'm not – you don't feel the same. I wasn't trying to..."

Coulson frowns. "Why are you so sure we are not talking about the same thing? That I don't feel the same?"

"Because – come on, Coulson, _stop it_. I know you. And I'm the kind – I just _know_."

He leans imperceptibly towards her but she feels the way the air around them becomes charged all of the sudden, he sways more than steps into her space.

"You sure about that, Skye?"

His voice is low and strange. Almost angry.

"Well, yeah, I am."

Coulson stares at her for a moment and then he grabs her by the hips and pulls her against him. He kisses her and it's in no way like a first kiss she'd expect from SHIELD Director Phil Coulson. It's rough and rushed and it's better than a thousand more proper options she had imagined. He bites on her lower lip like he's making a point. He's making a point. Skye really likes the point he is making and is very vocal about it. So tailor-suited company men kiss like this, Skye reflects as she messes that perfectly ironed jacket of his twisting a hand into its lapel, happy to discover something new. Happy to discover she was wrong about so many things.

"You keep your cards very close to your chest, sir," she tells him when she breaks the kiss but stays, comfortably, in his arms – one wrapped around Skye's waist, the other hand stroking her temple with newfound freedom.

"You think? I was afraid the opposite was true. May and Trip told me to cut it out in more than one occassion."

Skye wrinkles her nose at the confession. She could have had this – his hands, his warmth, the way he run his tounge across the roof of her mouth a moment ago, the way he is pressing his hips against her right now – way before today, by the looks of it. "Then maybe I'm just really, really dumb."

Now both his hands are in her hair, and his expression becomes tender.

"Maybe you had really good reasons for not trusting your instincts," he tells her.

Skye nods. It's not just her track record (though, well, let's not talk about her track record lately). She basically just confessed losing Coulson is her biggest fear in life. He must have done the math some time ago, of course. She kisses him again, still baffled by the idea that she just _can_.

"Now I have to thank HYDRA for _this_ ," she complains, gesturing towards their bodies still pressed to one another.

"We would have figured it out eventually," Coulson says, shrugging. "I could have asked FitzSimmons to knock a few years off, though. Give you something better than a middle-aged guy."

He is joking obviously but still Skye thinks he's such an idiot for even joking about it.

" _Wow_ ," she says, pushing her hands against his chest. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Director."

He tilts his head and Skye can see part of his joke masks an undertow of real regret.

"Is it, though?" He pauses, while Skye throws her arms around his neck playfully. He welcomes the gesture but his expression doesn't change. It's serious and pensive. "I didn't know you crashed a car for me."

"I didn't know you used to have so much hair," Skye replies, running her fingers through it lazily.

"See?" Coulson points out. "I was right."

She laughs.

He is such a bastard, he is going to make her say it.

"Are you going to make me say it? Okay then. I love your receding hairline, in case you haven't noticed already. And your gray hairs, even if I don't really understand how they are distributed. Why do you have more around here?" Her fingers play with his hair and Coulson grins. Skye runs her thumb across his forehead. "And these lines here, it makes you look like you are always worried about something but in a good way, I love these. And your name, I love your old man's name."

Coulson looks confused for a moment then he laughs, remembering.

"And I don't wish I had met you earlier," she adds and he seems somehow surprised by this. "I think this wouldn't have happened before. For both of us."

Coulson nods. He leans over to kiss her. Slowly, this time. Skye thinks this might be the best kiss yet. She intends to keep score. She intends to discover just how many ways of kissing her _Phil_ Coulson can come up with. She is willing to bet he has some neat tricks up his sleeve.

She teases him: "There's one thing I liked about old you, or younger you, in this case."

"There is?"

"What happened to your accent?" she asks.

He looks away for a moment, tensing up for a moment, then moving back into her embrace. "It's the kind of stuff they teach you in the Academy. To blend in. To sound like someone with authority. To sound like _someone_."

Skye feels a bit bad about that – that's such a load of crap, what was SHIELD even thinking – but she is glad he can talk to her about these things.

She caresses his temple with the tip of her fingers.

"Well, it was a nice accent. Other than that... this one right here? He is the Coulson I want."

"Mmm?" He pulls their bodies closer together, as if that was humanly possible. Which, apparently it is. Someone moans at the pressure and Skye is not sure if it's him or herself.

"You still have any doubts?" she asks.

" _Show me_ ," he says, in all seriousness.

Skye smirks. "Oh, that's exactly what I intend to do for the next few... decades."

She starts now.


End file.
